Men of the sea, on the waves they did ride
Drifting toward their new dawn
Sailing forth with the wind as their guide
Fathers of a kingdom to be born
Their blood flows in me
Through their eyes I see
With their spirit I shall bring down my blade
I speak with their words
Their callings I have heard
For their honour I shall bring down my blade
Offa’s sons, by the waters they fared
Gliding beyond Angeln’s plains
Swiftly on to their fortunes ahead
Masters of a land to be claimed
Old English: Hruron and feollon cynelicu getimbru somod and anlipie, and gehwær sacerdas and mæssepreostas betwuh wibedum wæron slægene and cwielmde; biscopas mid folcum buton ænigre are sceawunge ætgædre mid iserne and lige fornumene wæron.
Translation: Kingly buildings tumbled and fell, together and singularly, and everywhere priests and clergymen were slain and killed among their alters; bishops with their folk without regard to any mercy were destroyed with iron and fire together.
